


Daisy

by rvziel



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Developing Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, relationship analysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:14:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6636979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rvziel/pseuds/rvziel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>izaya does not fall in love. the only person to know him is himself, <i>himself,<b> himself.</b></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Daisy

**Author's Note:**

> song used is daisy by brand new

* * *

_And we sing this morning,_  
_That wonderful grand old message._  
_I don’t know about you, but I never get tired of it_ _  
_ Number 99: Just As I Am

* * *

 

 

Izaya and Shizuo have been screwing around for precisely three months and fifteen days. Not like Izaya is actually counting. _(He definitely is.)_

By screwing around, he means fucking. Rough sex. Sex where when Izaya was being choked, Shizuo would groan and just grin at him like a beast. Times where Izaya would sit on Shizuo’s hips to hold him down and drag his knife against the man’s chest. Blood would pool at the cuts, and Izaya would run his tongue over the fresh wounds. The taste of iron lingered in his mouth hours later, as he takes a sip of his coffee at his work desk.

_(Nobody actually knows about their rendezvous.)_

 

* * *

_I’m a mountain that has been moved_  
_I’m a river that is all dried up_ _  
I’m an ocean that nothing floats on_

* * *

 

 When someone does find out, all hell breaks out in Ikebukuro. The Dollar’s forum is exploding with controversy, but the two wander about their usual routine without a word. Izaya plays with lives as per usual, but soon finds it difficult to keep his composure with the constant questions clients would ask when he was busy attending to their task.

Are you two dating?

Are you friends?

Are you fucking?

...Something between that?

Izaya breathes, heavily, as he types away in chat windows under different aliases. Two weeks pass and there’s still _that_ conversation popping up. Shizuo started showing up less. Scratch marks healed before they were gone over again, because Shizuo wasn’t there to drag his nails down the informant’s back. So Izaya ignores the questions. He ignores the fact he and Shizuo had only spoken three times in two weeks.

They had been screwing around for five months and seven days until that point.

 

* * *

_I’m a sky that nothing wants to fly in_  
_I’m a sun that doesn’t burn hot_  
_I’m a moon that never shows its face_  
_I’m a mouth that doesn’t smile_ _  
I’m a word that no one ever wants to say_

* * *

 

 

Obsession; _noun_.  
An idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes in a person's mind.

Namie had so eloquently stuck a sticky note on Izaya’s monitor with the definition, right when Izaya was reaching for his phone to make a call. She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. Izaya throws his head back and laughs because really, Namie? Defining obsession for Izaya? If anything, her face is right next to the definition, as well as brother-complex.

By the time a month has passed after Ikebukuro found out that Shizuo and Izaya had been doing the deed, he and Shizuo were back to their normal routine. Just...more frequent. They went from two times a week to three, to four, to the point Namie had begun making coffee for the three of them rather than the two. Izaya wouldn’t shut up about Shizuo to her. Or Shinra. Or Celty.

More so about the fact people could conceive them as friends! Friends, of all things! As if they were romantic with their endeavors. Never. All kisses were met with blood, teeth hitting each other and clicking. They were definitely not lovers, either. Izaya does not fall in love. The only person to know him is himself, _himself,_ **_himself._ **

Nevermind that Shizuo figured out how he likes his tea. Or how cool he keeps his apartment and office. Or what his favorite philosophers were, or the fact Shizuo had begun to read some of their work. Or that Izaya listens to classical music on nights he can’t fall back asleep, because nightmares had woken him up.

Nevermind any of that.

 

* * *

_I don’t wanna be,_ _  
_ _He wasn’t finding anybody when he was on the shelf_

  


_I saw him in my dream_

* * *

 

 

Izaya screams from his nightmares.

Nobody knew that he wakes up frequently because a figure looms over him, chases him, has killed him several times, and since Izaya was seven years old the figure has never had a face. Izaya called him Noppera. He doesn’t really think it’s a faceless ghost or whatever, it just seems fitting.

On a particularly bad night, where Izaya was drowned over and over again and couldn’t wake up, Shizuo comforted him. By the time Izaya opens his eyes, coughing and tears running down his face, Shizuo already has turned on Bach’s _Largo_ from Izaya’s collection. Shizuo hoists Izaya into his lap and he breathes, calming down from the nightmare. He’s gripping too tightly to Shizuo’s shoulders by the time his breaths are normal, and the tears have stopped flowing, so Shizuo lays the two down. He holds Izaya closer to him this time, rather than facing away from each other as they usually do after sex.

Izaya doesn’t say a word as the music carries him back to sleep.

 

* * *

_I’m a mountain that has been moved_  
_I’m a fugitive that has no legs to run_  
_I’m a preacher with no pulpit_ _  
Spewing a sermon that goes on and on-_

* * *

 

 

It’s obvious that by the time ten months and ten days rolls around, Shizuo is completely moved in. They don’t fight nearly as much. They don’t try to kill each other nearly as much. One towel on the rack has turned to two, two different kinds of toothpaste, two kinds of shampoo and conditioner, two of each necessity.

Not a word is spoken about it. Not a word is spoken when instead of heading to his own apartment, Shizuo just goes to Izaya’s occasionally bringing groceries to cook dinner for he, Namie, and Izaya. Izaya ignores Namie’s glances at the pair and just continues on. Izaya and Shizuo don’t say much of it, they don’t put a label on their situation, it’s just a thing. Izaya wordlessly takes Shizuo’s portion of the rent when offered.

Not a word is spoken when they trade off cooking.

When Izaya is asked by Celty, eventually, he just smiles.

“Shizu-chan and I have an agreement,” He tells her ( _himself_ ). “Ikebukuro is severely less damaged, no?”

“ _Eventually you need to label it,_ ” She types out. “ _Eventually you two should talk about it._ ”

“Why complicate something uncomplicated?”

He feels like he’s talking to himself at this point.

 

* * *

_Well if we take all these things_  
_And we bury them fast_  
_And we’ll pray that they turn into seed,_  
_To roots and then grass_  
_It’d be all right, it’s alright_ _  
It’d be easier that way_

* * *

 

 

Izaya and Shizuo aren’t rough for once.

Shizuo is slow with him, gentle, light, no marks left at all. They are quiet. He smells more like pine and Izaya’s bed, he notices, rather than nicotine. Come to think of it, Shizuo has been smoking less and less. At least, since Izaya asked him to cut back because it left a smell in the furniture.

Izaya doesn’t object when the kisses are romantic, doesn’t object when he finds flowers on the coffee table, doesn’t object when Shizuo texts him if he’d be home late, doesn’t object when he does the same, doesn’t object when they start making plans around each other's schedules, doesn’t object-

Doesn’t object that after twelve months, to the day, Shizuo says “I love you,” first.

Doesn’t object when he whispers it back.

Hostility buried itself six feet under, and the tree that grew was one that was nurtured. One that was soft and grew stronger, hostility withering away and the tree of this new feeling wrapping its roots and strangled it. The gravestone reads “ _Here lies the bitterness and toxicity of Shizuo and Izaya’s former relationship_ ” and Izaya does not try to uproot the tree, does not try to dig his way down to the hostility and rekindle it.

“I love you,” labelled them.

 

* * *

_Or if the sky opened up and started pouring rain_  
_Like he knew it was time to start things over again_  
_It’d be all right, it’s alright,_ _  
It’s easier this way_

* * *

 

 

On twelve months and one day, Izaya did not have a nightmare.

It’s unspoken that the pair had settled themselves into a quiet life, a life where Izaya still ruined other peoples, and Shizuo continued to terrify others, but they were less aggressive. There was less of an edge. Izaya carried more patience with unruly clients, Shizuo wasn’t quick to resort to his fists.

It’s unspoken that they shifted from burning hatred and unruly hostility to knowing how they like each other's coffee in the morning and tea in the evening. Izaya was still guarded. But not nearly as much. Izaya knows Shizuo will tear down the last pieces of his armor, and he’s come to accept it.

The only person to _know_ Orihara Izaya, was Heiwajima Shizuo.


End file.
